THE GLORY OF TOIL 



E^dna Dean Proctor 









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THE GLORY OF TOIL 

AND OTHER POEMS 



THE GLORY OF TOIL 



AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 



EDNA DEAN PROCTOR 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

(3tte mitaer^ibe ptt0 Camlinbge 

1916 



'V 






COPYRIGHT, I916, BY EDNA DEAN PROCTOR 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Published October zqib 



OCT i8 1916 
©aA438935 
'7<^ / . 



TO 
TOILERS EVERYWHERE 



CONTENTS 

THE GLORY OF TOIL I 

THE GOAL OF THE WORLD 5 

THE WAR IN EUROPE 1915 7 

A MECCAN PROPHECY II 

A SEA-BIRD 13 

THE TRYST BY THE GRAND CANYON 1 5 

THE WAY TO WAKONDA 21 

A WOMAN OF PARIS 22 

PERSIA TO EUROPE 2^ 

CHARLES GEORGE GORDON 2J 

MOUNT TACOMA ^8 

THE FIRE-MAIDEN AND THE SNOW-PEAKS 32 

ON THE MASSACHUSETTS COAST 37 

AN ANGEL 4O 

EBB AND FLOW 4I 

TO-MORROW 44 
[vii] 



CONTENTS 

DANIEL WEBSTER 4^ 

CONCORD BY THE MERRIMACK 50 

THE CAGED ROBIN 5^ 

BOLIVAR 54 

A HERO OF CARACAS 55 
DOUGLAS .5^ 

FORGIVENESS 59 

THE KINGDOM OF GOD 6 1 

NOTES 63 



THE GLORY OF TOIL 



THE GLORY OF TOIL 

Whether they delve in the buried coal, 
or plough the upland soil. 

Or man the seas, or measure the suns, 
hail to the men who toil! 

It was stress and strain, in wood and 
cave, while the primal ages ran. 

That broadened the brow, and built the 
brain, and made of a brute a man ; 

And better the lot of the sunless mine, 
the fisher's perilous sea. 

Than the slothful ease of him who 
sleeps in the shade of his bread- 
fruit tree ; 

For sloth is death and stress is life in all 
God's realms that are. 

And the joy of the limitless heavens is 
the whirl of star with star ! 



THE GLORy OF TOIL 

Still reigns the ancient order — to sow, 

and reap, and spin ; 
But oh, the spur of the doing ! and oh, 

the goals to win. 
Where each, from the least to the great- 
est, must bravely bear his part — 
Make straight the furrows, or shape 

the laws, or dare the crowded 

mart ! 
And he who lays firm the foundations, 

though strong right arm may 

tire. 
Is worthy as he who curves the arch and 

dreams the airy spire; 
For both have reared the minster that 

shrines the sacred fire. 

Floods drown the fairest valleys ; fields 
droop in the August blaze ; 

Yet rain and sun are God's angels that 
give us the harvest days, 

[2] 



THE GLORY OF TOIL 

And toil is the world's salvation, though 

stern may be its ways : 
Far from the lair it has led us — far 

from the gloom of the cave — 
Till lo, we are lords of Nature instead 

of her crouching slave ! 
And slowly it brings us nearer to the 

ultimate soul of things : 
We are weighing the atoms, and wed- 
ding the seas, and cleaving the 

air with wings ; 
And draining the tropic marshes where 

death had lain in wait. 
And piercing the polar solitudes, for all 

their icy state ; 
And luring the subtle electric flame to 

set us free from the clod — 
O toiling Brothers, the earth around, we 

are working together with God ! 
With God, the infinite Toiler, who 

dwells with His humblest ones, 
[3 ] 



THE GLORY OF TOIL 

And tints the dawn and the lily, and 

flies with the flying suns. 
And forever, through love and service, 

though days may be drear and 

dim. 
Is guiding the whole creation up from 

the deeps to Him ! 



THE GOAL OF THE WORLD 

(Words for the central movement of Chopin's 
" Funeral March ") 

O the goal of the world is Joy — 
Joy divine that is born of love ! 
Sorrows are wings that safe convoy 

The soul to its nobler realms above. 
There are days that darken and die in 
gloom 
Till the heart is heavy with grief and 
wrong, 
Yet still in the shadow some rose will 
bloom, 
And still through the wail there runs 
a song; 
For loss and anguish are only the beat 
Of the wild March rains that bring 
the sheaves, 

[5] 



THE GOAL OF THE WORLD 

And a wind of heaven will woo our 
feet 
To the vales of peace in the harvest 
eves. 

Never a star too late or dim 

To hold its way with the central sun ; 
Nor a voice too faint to swell the hymn 

By the Father's throne when the 
years are done — 
The ages of God that are moulding fair 

Each life for the glory that is to be; 
Nor the woes of earth nor the powers' 
of air 

Can stay from the palms and the crys- 
tal sea ! 
For oh, the goal of the world is Joy — 

Joy divine that is born of love: 
Sorrows are wings that safe convoy 

The soul to its nobler realms above! 



THE WAR IN EUROPE — 1915' 

(Abdallah of Cairo speaks) 

By the Prophet ! If these be Christians, 
where shall we find the Heathen ? 
If this is their gospel of Love, where 
shall we look for Hate ? 
With the lilies of Peace their Jesus in 
temple and shrine is wreathen. 
But they raven like wolves in the fold 
when the moon is late. 

And for what? For the market ; for greed 
of gold and dominion; 
To rule to the uttermost sea and the 
shores no foot has trod ; 
Their impious fleets sail the sky, but 
never a pinion 
Bears the beleaguered spirit to regions 
above the clod. 

[7] 



THE WAR IN EUROPE 

A blast of the desert were we in our 
fervor, our valor. 
From Khalid to Amrou and Musa, 
lords of the Western world ! 
Alike in the flush of triumph, the death 
angeFs pallor. 
We were soldiers of God and our 
banners were only in Paradise 
furled ! 

These carry their Goddess with them — 
the Virgin they dare bedizen 
With jewels and robe of silver or fret 
of gold to her feet ; 
Blessed, thrice blessed be Allah ! the soul 
that to Him has risen 
Nor images needs, nor temples, the 
merciful Lord to greet! 

Pleasant the cool of the mosque, the 
fountain, the soaring column; 
[ 8] 



THE WAR IN EUROPE 

Dear the call of the muezzin to prayer 

at the day's decline; 
But the wind of the waste can summon 

in tones more tenderly solemn. 
For the East and the West are Allah's 

— the wilderness-ways a shrine. 

So, if this infidel host at the Moslem 
gates should thunder. 
We know that beneath the tumult 
will be Allah's eternal calm; 
Aye, if to prove our faith the walls should 
be rent asunder. 
He will build them again more 
grandly for the glory of Islam! 



By the Prophet ! If these be Christians, 
where shall we find the Heathen ? 
If this is their gospel of Love, where 
shall we look for Hate ? 
[ 9] 



THE WAR IN EUROPE 

With the lilies of Peace their Jesus in 
temple and shrine is wreathen. 
But they raven like wolves in the fold 
when the moon is late. 

Hark to the roar of battle ! the wail for 
the dead and the dying! 
Prating of light these Christians have 
shrouded the earth in gloom ; 
Each unto God or Goddess for conquest 
and gain is crying — 
I will repeat the Fatiha and leave them 
to their doom! 



A MECCAN PROPHECY* 

(1916) 

Not Roum, but Meccah! where the 

skies 
Lean just below God's Paradise, 
And where the azure dome was riven 
To let the Black Stone fall from heaven ; 
Where Abraham prayed and Ishmael 
An angel led to Zem Zem's well. 
And both upbuilt that House divine — 
The Kaabah, earth's most holy shrine; 
And where Our Lord Mohammed came 
To save us from the awful flame. 

Ah, when we heard that God is One, 
And merciful, and that we dwell. 
Beyond, in Paradise or Hell 

As we have kept His just decrees — 

[ " ] 



A MECCAN PROPHECY 

Praise be to Allah ! round the world 
To speed the truth our hosts were hurled ; 

Swift as the light we made it run 
From land to land till all the air 
Echoed the fervent praise or prayer 

Of suppliant nations on their knees. 
And half the earth, from pine to palm. 
Was won for Allah and Islam. 

Not Roum, but Meccah! Let the law 
Go forth where first the Prophet saw 
The way to God, and where he lies 
Entombed with all high sanctities 
Of earth and Heaven. The Turk's dark 

hour 
Must pass. The Arab's day of power 
Dawns newly, and the desert still 
Shall have the vision and the will 
To move the world! . . . 



A SEA-BIRD 

(OfF Peru) 

O TO be a sea-bird one celestial day. 
Sailing, sailing, sailing past the wind 

away! 
All the crested billows rolling bright 

below. 
All the boundless heaven balm and light 

and glow; 
Ah, what life, what rapture wide-winged 

thus to fly. 
In God's azure only sun and sea and I ! 

O to poise in ether, high o'er cloudy 

bars. 
Where the cross at midnight burns 

among the stars ! 
See, to eastward, Andes lift their snows 

in air, 

[ 13 ] 



A SEA-BIRD 

Westward bowery islands beckoning, 

Eden-fair ; 
Ah, what life, what rapture, wide-winged 

thus to fly. 
In God*s azure only sun and sea and I! 

O the primal freedom, O the glori- 
ous ease, 

Flashing down the breakers, floating 
with the breeze! 

Still in rosy morning, sunset's golden 
shine. 

Sailing, sailing, sailing blithe above the 
brine ! 

Ah, what life, what rapture, wide-winged 
thus to fly. 

In God's azure only sun and sea and I ! 



THE TRYST BY THE GRAND 
CANYON' 

A REALM of dreams is that sublimest 
chasm 
Cleft by the gods in Arizona's 
plain. 
Where peak on peak, shrine, fortress, 
weird phantasm. 
Crowd the abyss and make our gran- 
deur vain ! 
Where, with the dawn, full many a 
dome and palace 
Fair as Aladdin's, fronts the terraced 
wall. 
And towering altar-pile and carven 
chalice 
Shine with the hues of heaven at 
evening's fall. 

[15] 



TRYST BY THE GRAND CANYON 

Where, south, loom Karnaks on the 
wide horizon — 
Sphinx, temple, obelisk, to hail the 
sun ; 
North, slow cloud-shadows pass like 
herds of bison 
Trailing across the gorges, bold and 
dun; 
Where, in its awful bed, the Colo- 
rado, 
Curbless, triumphant, to the hot Gulf 
goes. 
And dreams, in quiet pools, of moun- 
tain meadow. 
And the far splendor of Wyoming 
snows. 

There when the sun sets and the glows 
are paling. 
And sorrowing winds make moan by 
fane and tree — 
[ i6 ] 



TRYST BY THE GRAND CANYON 

Such sorrow as through Hades went 
bewailing 
The glory vanished with Perseph- 
one — 
When mid their crags the mountain 
sheep are folded. 
And the cliff eagles to their eyries 
flown. 
While all the mighty forms the gods 
have moulded. 
Wrap them in purple dusk and grieve 
alone ; 

When the fond moon has climbed the 
eastern mountains 
And silvered all her waiting peaks 
and pines 
Past Rio Grande's, Colorado's foun- 
tains, — 
The Ancient People throng their 
wonted shrines. 
[ ^7] 



TRYST BY THE GRAND CANYON 

Silent as mists they steal by cliff and 
hollow ; 
With soundless feet they thread the 
woodland ways ; 
Only the wind, low-breathing, dares to 
follow 
Their flitting bands through pass and 
darkling maze. 

Hark ! you may almost hear the incan- 
tations. 
The rhythmic dance, the chant, the 
murmured prayer. 
And, from afar, the faint reverbera- 
tions 
Of cry and drum-beat thrilling 
through the air — 
The herald's call, perchance, when dan- 
ger hovers. 
And chiefs and clans for council he 
must rouse, 

[ i8] 



TRYST BY THE GRAND CANYON 

The laugh of children, speech of happy 
lovers 
Soft as the sighing in the cedar boughs. 

But ere day brightens Coconino's dim- 
ness. 
Or proud Francisco's peaks have 
caught its rose. 
Or v^ith its flush the gray walls lose 
their grimness. 
Ah, whither? — and the night wind 
only knows — 
The night wind and the stars that watch 
forever 
Above the shrines where their brown 
children throng. 
And, swift beneath, the lone, triumph- 
^ ant river 
That bears their secret seaward with 

its song ! 
• ••••• • 

[ 19] 



TRYST BY THE GRAND CANYON 

A realm of dreams is that sublimest 
chasm 
Cleft by the gods in Arizona's plain. 
Where peak on peak, shrine, fortress, 
weird phantasm. 
Crowd the abyss and make our 
grandeur vain ! 
Where festal sounds are heard if we but 
barken. 
And shy forms flit and meet till 
moonlight wanes. 
And the wind dies, and eerie shadows 
darken. 
For over peak and plain enchant- 
ment reigns. 



THE WAY TO WAKONDA^ 
(The Great Spirit of the Omaha Indians) 

Wakonda's way is the way of the wind 

That blows from star to star ; 
And he who would find Wakonda 

And the land where the Vanished are. 
Must follow, follow, follow 

The west wind in its flight. 
And lo ! he will reach Wakonda 

And the Land of all Delight ! 

So long is the trail to Wakonda, 

And the end thereof so sweet. 
To the feet of the dead their moccasins 

We tie to make them fleet ; 
And we know they will never wander 

With cloud or moon or star. 
But straight will speed to Wakonda 

And the Land where the Loved Ones 
are. 

[21 ] 



A WOMAN OF PARISH 

(September, 19 14) 

Retreating towards the Marne, his 
regiment 
Would pass at morn a neighboring 
suburb through; 
And thither walked his glad young wife, 
intent 
To see her soldier, strong and brave 
and true; 
And in her arms, or pattering with light 
feet 
Beside her steps, she held her baby 
boy — 
O the proud moment when his eyes 
should greet 
Their little Victor brimming o'er 

with joy ! 
• •••••• 

[22] 



A WOMAN OF PARIS 

Upon the curb she stood as past they 
filed. 
When something barred the way and, 

unawares, 
The march a moment stayed; then wife 

and child 
Saw, in the line, the father's friend 

and theirs — 
Christophe, the corporal, who quickly 

spied 
The eager wife he knew as girl and bride. 
And, springing from the ranks, he seized 

her arm : 
''Courage, courage, Madame! Tour hus- 
band fell 
Yesterday, by my side, at MauxJ' . . . 

Ah, well . . . 
Ah, well . . . her eyelids closed, her 

heart stood still . . . 
What joy henceforth can wile, what 

grief can harm ! . . . 

[ 23 1 



A WOMAN OF PARIS 

Then swift above her head, with 

deathless will 
She raised her boy, presenting him, and 

cried. 
For all her anguish, " Vive la France ! " 

A thrill 
Ran through the throng, and with the 

line's advance 
Cheers filled the morning sky for her 

and France 
As if no soldier in his place had died ! — 
For France, secure, invincible, im- 
mortal. 
While women such as she are at its 

portal ! 



PERSIA TO EUROPE^ 

(1911) 

You scorn us ? You dream we are ready 
to yield 

Our realm at the threat of your armies 
afield? 

YoUy race of wild rovers or forests your 
home 

When we towered resplendent ere Ath- 
ens or Rome ? — 

Our grandeurs of old we can never for- 
get. 

And the Mede and the Persian abide 
with us yet. 

From the gulfs of the south to Tehran 
and Tabriz' 

We are rousing from sleep and submis- 
sion and ease ; 

[25] 



PERSIA TO EUROPE 

Is it just to assail us, yet hardly awake. 

When we need all our valor and vigor 
to break 

The bonds that have kept us in weak- 
ness and wrong? — 

Away with your dirges and cheer us with 
song ! 

For by our Avesta, that gospel of God 
Leading upward the soul to His crystal 

abode ; 
By thy columns, Persepolis, crowning 

the plain 
Where age after age saw thy glorious 

reign ; 
By the snow of Elburz'; by the Sun in 

the sky ; 
By Ormuzd and Allah — our rule shall 

not die ! 



CHARLES GEORGE GORDON 

(Died at Khartoum, January 26, 1885) 

Not Kilimanjaro towering to the sun 
Could mate his grandeur as he stood, 
at morn — 
The last hope vanished, the last moment 
run — 
Facing his murderous foes with silent 
scorn 
Till his high soul was freed in Afric 

air! . . . 
Then from the sorrowing world there 

burst acclaim 
For him, abandoned, yet above despair. 
For him who boldest paths of service 
trod. 
Forever in the shadow or the flame ! 
And so he perished — he, a knight of 
God — 
Ah, deathless is the glory, is the shame ! 
[ 27 1 



MOUNT TACOMA' 

(Washington) 

I AM Tacoma, Monarch of the Coast ! 
Uncounted ages heaped my shining 
snows ; 
The sun by day, by night the starry 
host. 
Crown me with splendor; every 

breeze that blows 
Wafts incense to my altars ; never 
wanes 
The glory my adoring children boast, 
For one with sun and sea Tacoma 
reigns ! 

Tacoma — the Great Snow Peak — 
mighty name 
My dusky tribes revered when time 
was young ! 

[28] 



MOUNT TACOMA 

Their god was I in avalanche and 

flame — 
In grove and mead and songs my 

rivers sung 
As blithe they ran to make the valleys 

fair — 
Their Shrine of Peace where no avenger 

came 
To vex Tacoma, lord of earth and 

air. 

Ah ! when at morn above the mists I 
tower 
And see my cities gleam by slope and 
strand. 
What joy have I in this transcendent 
dower — 
The strength and beauty of my sea- 
girt land 
That holds the future royally in 
fee! 

[ 29 ] 



MOUNT TACOMA 

And lest some danger, undescried, 
should lower. 
From my far height I watch o'er 
wave and lea. 

And cloudless eves when calm in heaven 
I rest. 
All rose-bloom with a glow of paradise. 
And through my firs the balm-wind of 
the west, 
Blown over ocean islands, softly sighs. 
While placid lakes my radiant image 
frame — 
And know my worshipers, in loving 
quest. 
Will mark my brow and fond lips 
breathe my name: 

Enraptured from my valleys to my snows, 
I charm my glow to crimson - — 
soothe to gray ; 
[30] 



MOUNT TACOMA 

And when the encircling shadow deeper 
grows. 
Poise, a lone cloud, beside the starry- 
way; 
Then, while my realm is hushed from 
steep to shore, 
I yield my grandeur to divine repose. 
And know Tacoma reigns forever- 
more ! 



THE FIRE-MAIDEN AND THE 
SNOW-PEAKS « 

(An Indian legend of the Columbia) 

LoowiT, the beautiful maiden * 

Who gave the Red men fire 
That the tents might bask in its rosy 
light 

And laugh at winter's ire — 
Lit their hearts with a fiercer flame 

Of love and wild desire. 
Fair was she as the morning star ; 

Lithe as a fawn at play ; 
And the fire she fed was the only fire 

In all the world that day. 

A hundred suitors thronged her feet 
From valley and wood and ridge. 
But she sat, unmoved, by her blazing 
brands 
On the tahmanawas bridge — 
[32] 



FIRE-MAIDEN AND SNOW-PEAKS 

The bridge that Saghalie, chief of the 
gods. 
Arched over the mighty river. 
That the tribes might come and go at 
vv^ill 
And brothers be forever. 

Unmoved she sat, in her maiden dreams. 

Above the river's flow 
Till bold from the north came Klicki- 
tat 

Challenging friend and foe. 
While mountain lion and grizzly fled 

From the shafts of his conquering 
bow; 
Till blithe from the west came Wiyeast, 

Valiant and tall was he — 
The eagle paused in its upward flight 

His goodly form to see ; 
And with them were their faithful braves 

Eager the maid to hold, 
[33] 



FIRE-MAIDEN AND SNOW-PEAKS 

And vowing she should wed their chief 
Ere the young moon was old. 

They wooed with gifts and honeyed 
words. 
They showed their prowess there 
In swiftest race and wondrous game 

And all that men may dare ; 
But she could not choose between the 
twain, 
Nor would she say them nay. 
And with bitter thoughts they saw the sun 

Turn westward, day by day. 
And the smoke of her hearth float 
darkly up 
Till all the sky was gray. 
Then madness seized them and they 
closed 
In battle's awful strife 
Till the stream ran red with the blood 
of the slain 

[34] 



FIRE-MAIDEN AND SNOW-PEAKS 

And death had more than life — 
Till the wind went by like a sea-bird's cry 
And the air with moans was rife. 

Saghalie heard and was wroth, and cried, 
" Behold now, who is stronger ! 
The cruel maid and the furious chiefs 

Shall live to war no longer ! " 
And he shook the earth till the great 
bridge reeled 
And plunged in the mighty river. 
And with lightning's flash and thunder's 
crash 
The three were gone forever ! 
Nor time nor tide, the roar of the wreck 
From the fallen dalles can sever ! 

"But they were mine," said Saghalie, 
"And they shall tower in snow. 

To greet the sun at his rise and set. 
And guard the river's flow." 
[ 35 ] 



FIRE-MAIDEN AND SNOW-PEAKS 

And Wiyeast soars in grand Mount 
Hood; 
In Adams Klickitat shines ; 
And beautiful Loowit lifts her head 

In rare Saint Helen's lines — 
Loowit, the maid of the glowing 
hearth. 
Who gave the Red men fire. 
That the tents might bask in its rosy 
light 
And laugh at winter's ire. 
The lovers gaze on her radiant brow 

But never may call her bride. 
And thus, while the ages pass, they 
tower 
Alone, but glorified. 
And the river, the mighty Oregon, 
Rolls proudly at their side. 



ON THE MASSACHUSETTS COAST 

(night) 

O THE gloom of the night with the 

wind and the rain 
Howling in, beating in from the deso- 
late main. 
And anon with a cry o'er the tempest 

prevailing 
Some wreck of the deep the wild ruin 

bewailing ! 
From the Shoals to Nantucket the lights 

are half hid 
The rush and the roar of the breakers 

amid; 
Ships turn from their moorings; the 

boats are adrift; 
Not a merciful star looking down 

through a rift; 
[37] 



ON THE MASSACHUSETTS COAST 

But blackness and fear with the wind 
and the rain 

Howling in, beating in from the deso- 
late main. 

(morning) 

Now the sun tips with fire every wave's 

tossing crest; 
The gulls are blown seaward, the wind's 

in the west ; 
And the wide-rolling deep and the kelp- 
laden shore 
See cloud and fog fleeing to gray Labrador. 
The ships, all a-thrill with the joy of 

the breeze. 
Sail port ward as light as the foam on 

the seas; 
Not a film in the sky — not a mote in 

the air — 
The blue seems the bright wall of 

heaven laid bare — 

[ 38 ] . 



ON THE MASSACHUSETTS COAST 

And the gloom of the night and its 

ghostly cry scorning. 
We are glad in the azure and splendor 

of morning ! 



AN ANGEL 

At my window there 's an angel 

Robed in flame — 
Orange, emerald, vermilion! 
Countless treasure — not a trillion ■ 
Though you heaped it to the sky. 
Of the gems of earth could buy 
Such magnificence of color. 
Such release from gray and dolor. 

All things tame. 
As this wondrous angel brings 
(O the ravishing evangel!) 
In the splendor of his wings — 
Orange, emerald, vermilion. 
Gold of sunset, rose of dawn — 

And his name? 
'T is the maple on the lawn ! 

[40] 



EBB AND FLOW 

Said Earth in the darkness wailing 
As morningward she turned, 
"Alas for the golden summers 
Along my peaks that burned ! 
And alas for the beautiful maidens 
Who danced on the flowery leas. 
And my sons so bold in camp and 
mart 
And out on the stormy seas; 
Like the rose and the palm they 
faded 
And fell by a merciless doom — 
Alas for the beauty and valor. 
While I roll on, a tomb ! 

" No cliff of the loftiest mountains. 
No deepest cave of the sea, 

[41 ] 



EBB AND FLOW 

But is mingled of dust that once 
had life 

And has gone afar from me: 
The asons were brief to tell my grief. 

The wide sky has not room. 
My winds chant dirges evermore 

While I roll on, a tomb! 

Soon will the warm May twilights 

Be thrilling with lovers' words; 
I shall hear the laughter of children. 

The songs of nesting birds ; 
But I know the shadow will follow. 

And my heart is lost in gloom 
As I think of the infinite myriads dead. 

While I roll on, their tomb ! " 

m • • • • 

Morning floods the sky with splendor ; 

Lo! an angel in the sun 
Crying, " Ltye is lord forever ! 

Life and deaths O Earthy are one ! 
[42] 



EBB AND FLOW 

As the tides rejoice the ocean^ summers wake 

or still the sod^ 
So Life ebbs and < flows forever^ pulsing 

with the heart of God I " 



TO-MORROW 



** To-morrow ! O the glorious To-mor- 
row ! '' 
The soul forever cries ; 
"Balm it will bring for every hurt and 
sorrow- 
In the fair land that lies 

Just yonder, hidden from our earthly 
vision, 
But waiting, waiting there 
With fullest compensations, joys 
elysian. 
Nor blight of dole or care. 

To-day on shore and sea the tempest 
rages. 
The wild winds never cease; 
[44] 



TO-MORROW 

To-morrow! — Ah! the thought of it 
assuages 
The storm till all is peace." 
• • • • • 

No idle dream, but prophecy eternal. 
This rapture of the soul — 

This grand outreaching for the life 
supernal 
Though whelming billows roll. 

It doth not yet appear what worlds 
benigner 

Within God's agons bide. 
But oh, forever, days will dawn diviner. 

And we be satisfied ! 



DANIEL WEBSTER9 

(At his Birthplace) 

Honor the home that reared him! — 
the hills, the wood, the stream 

That heard his earliest accents, that 
shared his earliest dream ! 

A place it is for pilgrimage — for grati- 
tude to shrine 

A name and fame whose grandeur will 
never know decline; 

And with gladness and remembrance and 
reverent accord. 

For his greatness and his service we 
bless and praise the Lord. 

From his own Kearsarge and Katahdin 
to Shasta's dome of snow. 

From Superior's pines to the tropic Gulf 
where the palm and the orange 
grow, 

[46] 



DANIEL WEBSTER 

He loved his Land and in dreams beheld 

the splendor of its prime — 
A mighty nation nobly dowered for a 

destiny sublime; 
And he strove to weld the States in one 

with a strength no power could 

sever. 
For the cry of his heart was, " Liberty 

and Union, now and forever!" 

We think of him as a mountain peak 
that towers above the lea. 

Where sunshine falls and lightnings 
flash and all the winds blow 
free; 

And his voice comes back like the swell- 
ing chant, within some minster 
old. 

That floods the nave and thrills the 
aisles and dies in a strain of 
gold! 

[47 ] 



DANIEL WEBSTER 

So lofty his eloquence, high his mien, 

had he walked the Olympian 

plain 
The listening, wondering throngs had 

seen great Zeus come down to 

reign; 
For beneath the blue or in stately halls, 

he swayed the hearts of men. 
As the boughs are swayed by the rush- 
ing wind that sweeps o'er wood 

and glen — 
As the earth is swayed by the primal 

fires that burn beyond our ken. 
And when nor plea nor prayer availed 

war's awful strife to shun. 
His fervor glowed in the flag aloft and 

nerved each loyal gun. 
And above the roar of battle and the 

rage of mad endeavor. 
His cry still echoed, " Liberty and Union, 

now and forever! *' 

[48] 



DANIEL WEBSTER 

Honor the home that reared him ! — 

the hills, the wood, the stream 
That heard his earliest accents, that 

shared his earliest dream! 
Beyond earth's fret and censure how deep 

the joy to him 
That the Union lives, resplendent, not 

one star lost or dim; 
And while the skies enfold Kearsarge 

and the meadows Merrimack 

River, 
From sea to sea, shall our watchword be 

his patriot heart-cry, "Liberty 

and Union, now and forever ! " 



CONCORD BY THE MERRIMACK- 

Serene amid the meadows 

Her seasons come and go; 
To north her glorious mountains. 

Her ocean tides below. 
No Capital she envies 

Its peak or plain or river — 
Fair Concord by the Merrimack, 

Whose fame is ours forever! 

New Hampshire's treasured story- 
She guards within a shrine 

As rare as Rome or Athens built 
To those they held divine; 

For her sons come back to crown 
her — 
Their ties they cannot sever — 

Fair Concord by the Merrimack 
Whose fame is ours forever ! 
[ 50 ] 



CONCORD BY THE MERRIMACK 

Still may the years bring wisdom 

And honor to her halls; 
Still her proud sons be eager 

To serve when valor calls. 
And see their Capital for aye 

Of light and joy the giver — 
Fair Concord by the Merrimack 

Whose fame is ours forever! 



THE CAGED ROBIN ^^ 

At the Pantheon of Mexico, 

Through San Fernando's gate. 
In a dim and dusty corridor 

I chanced one morn to wait. 
When, from the wall above me, 

I heard a pleading note 
As if a song had turned to sighs 

Within a tiny throat. 
And lo, a northern robin. 

Far from his heritage. 
With drooping wings and half-shut 
eyes 

Locked in a narrow cage ! 

Morelos and Guerrero — 

Rare bronze and stone, were there. 
And Juarez, mourned of Mexico, 

Ah, never rest so fair ! 
And from the Alameda 

[52] 



THE CAGED ROBIN 

Wild music wafted down — 
But what cared he for heroes dead. 

Or all the Aztec town ? 
His mate was in the Northland 

Where she would build her nest 
By the apple blooms of the orchard. 

On the bough she loved the best. 
And O to be free and flying home 

Past mount and wood and bay — 
Home to the cool, green orchard. 

Beneath the sky of May ! 
And suddenly he spread his wings 

As if to take the air. 
But wearily sank back again 

To the quiet of despair. . 
Then, from the sombre gateway, 

I heard my comrades call. 
And gained the street, but my heart 
was left 
With the robin on the wall. 



BOLfVAR 

(At the Pantheon, Caracas) 

BoLfvAR ! Venezuela brings 

To thee her richest offerings ; 

But bounds are not for fame like thine — 

The continent is still thy shrine ; 

Yea, North and South through thee 

are one, 
Thou peer and heir of Washington ! 

And while La Guayra's vale is fair 
And Avila climbs proud in air, 
, While Maracaibo's mirror glows 
And Orinoco seaward flows. 
Thy name, thy glorious deeds shall 

stand. 
The bulwark of thy native land. 



[54] 



A HERO OF CARACAS" 

Caracas ! when I think of thee 
I hear the bells chime tunefully. 
The bells of Spain that mark the hour 
Within thy gray cathedral tower. 
And echo sweet and faint and far 
Where Avila's green summits bar. 
Beyond the vale, the northern sea — 
The shining, storied Caribee. 

Superb in bronze and porphyries 
I see, within the plaza trees. 
Victorious thy Bolivar ride ; 
And 'gainst the mountain's bosky side. 
Within the Pantheon where rest 
Thy noblest and thy mightiest. 
In stately pomp his urn enshrined, 
A pasan sung by every wind ! 
And lo, to south, our Washington 
[55] 



A HERO OF CARACAS 

Faces serene the tropic sun. 

Benignant, firm, thy hills before. 

As on his fair Potomac shore. 

And at his feet, in endless May, 

Thy merry, dark-browed children play : 

Honor is his, by every sea. 

Who won the world for Liberty ! 

But where is bronze or urn for him 
Whose fame should never lapse or dim 
While Caribee thy border laves ? 
Hast thou no grave, of all thy graves. 
To give the boldest of thy braves ? 
No pedestal whereon to set 
The chief nor peaks nor vales forget ? — 
Great Guaicaipu'ro, name to raise 
The dead with, and to crown with 
bays! 

Mould in metal or carve in stone 
This Indian hero ! Make him known 
[56] 



A HERO OF CARACAS 

With thy Bolivar as he stood. 
Despairing, fierce, that night of blood 
When country, freedom, life were lost 
As round him closed the invading host 
With thrust of sword and pall of flame 
And shouts that stayed the stars in shame ; 
And, dying, to his gods he cried 
For vengeance, and in crying, died ! . . . 
Set the statue where all may heed. 
And on its flawless marble read, 
(Perchance his curse were lighter thus — 
Lifted a shadow from thy strand — ) 
To Guatcaipu'ro valorous^ 
Defender of his native land. 



DOUGLAS 

There 's an old, old song with a sweet 

refrain — 
"Douglas, Douglas, tender and true'M 
It was sung of a man by Scotia's main — 
A man of a noble, knightly strain — 
But Douglas, my collie, 't was meant 
for you. 

With your regal air and ruff of snow. 

Your soft dark eyes for caress that sue. 
Your welcoming bark, now loud, now 

low. 
And your glad response to love, I know 
The old, sweet song was meant for 
you — 
" Douglas, Douglas, tender and true." 

[58] 



FORGIVENESS 

A MOTHER, with her darling 
Whose four years just had run. 

Bade him ask God's forgiveness 
For something he had done; 

Then left him alone by the garden. 
In the glow of the setting sun. 

A moment — and he came flying 
Back through the blooms of May : 

" O mother, I did ask Him, 

And quick I heard him say, 

*Yes, child, I do forgive you; 
Now you may go and play/ " 

Ah! with our many lapses. 

How blest could we hear Him 
say, 

[59] 



FORGIVENESS 



Yes, child, I do forgive you ; 

Now you may go and play." 
The peace that passeth knowledge 

Would be in our hearts that day ! 



THE KINGDOM OF GOD 

Through storm and sun the age draws 
on 
When Heaven and earth shall meet. 
For the Lord has said that glorious 

He will make the place of His feet ; 
And the grass may die on the summer 
hills. 
The flower fade by the river. 
But our God is the same through end- 
less years. 
And His word shall stand forever. 

And they shall meet in love that knows 
Nor race nor creed nor clime. 

For the world shall be one brotherhood 
In that celestial time ; 

And happiness shall be the air. 
And righteousness the sod, 
[6i ] 



THE KINGDOM OF GOD 

And earth go singing on her way 
About the throne of God ! 



« What of the night ? " O Watchman 
set 
To mark dawn's earliest ray : 
" The wind blows fair from the morn- 
ing star. 
Fair from the gates of day ; 
And over sorrow and sighing shines 

The Dream of Galilee — 
The Kingdom of God that shall fill the 
earth 
As the waters fill the sea." 



NOTES 



NOTES 

1. The Fatiha, the opening chapter of the 
Koran, and the Lord's Prayer of the Mos- 
lems, runs thus : — 

" Praise be to God, the Lord of all crea- 
tures ; the most merciful, the king of the day 
of judgment. Thee do we worship, and of 
thee do we beg assistance. Direct us in the 
right way, in the way of those to whom thou 
hast been gracious; not of those against 
whom thou art incensed, nor of those who go 
astray." 

2. Roum, in Arabic literature, is the name 
for Rome — Constantinople. 

3. The country about the Grand Canyon 
and its tributary gorges abounds in relics of 
the prehistoric people who once dwelt there. 

4. " The ceremony of each village (gens) 
had a central subject, some form or force, 

[ 6s ] 



NOTES 

having its abode in the sky or on the earth, 
and represented by a symbol. . . . The sym- 
bol may be an animal, as the buffalo, or a 
force, as the wind, and the people be spoken 
of by the names of the symbol of their vil- 
lage ; as, the ' buffalo people,' or the ' wind 
people/ ... It was the duty of the 'wind 
people * to put moccasins on the feet of the 
dead, that they might enter the spirit land 
and there be recognized and able to rejoin 
their kindred." (Alice C. Fletcher, in "The 
Indian and Nature^ 

5. This incident is told in Paris Reborn 
(p. 91), by Herbert Adams Gibbons. (The 
Century Co., 191 5.) 

6. In 191 1, with the seizure of Persian ter- 
ritory by Russia, and the demands of Russia 
and England, the Constitutional and Pro- 
gressive Party felt constrained to take up 
arms in the country's defense. 

7. "Tacoma" — the Great Snow Peak — 
is the beautiful, ancient, Indian name of 
Washington's highest mountain. " Rainier " 

[66] 



NOTES 

should be banished from speech and from the 
maps. 

8. ^he Columbia River, by W. D. Lyman, 
Whitman College, Oregon ; The Guardians of 
the Columbia, by John H. Williams, Tacoma, 
Washington. 

9. Read at the Daniel Webster Birthplace 
Celebration, at Franklin (Salisbury), New 
Hampshire, August 28, 19 13. 

10. These lines, written for the 150th An- 
niversary Celebration of the Charter of Con- 
cord, New Hampshire, and taken by the City 
as its Song, are reprinted by request. The 
"shrine" therein referred to is the beautiful 
building of the New Hampshire Historical 
Society, given by Mr. Edward Tuck, of 
Exeter, N.H., and Paris, France. 

11. "The recumbent figure of Juarez, the 
Indian president, rests beneath a Grecian 
temple of purest white marble. Half sup- 
porting the body is the figure of Mexico 
mourning for her dead." 

[67 ] 



NOTES 

12. Guaicaipu'ro, a native Indian chief of 
the Caracas region, Venezuela, resisted des- 
perately the incoming of the Spaniards, and 
in 1658, attacked in his mountain retreat, per- 
ished by fire and sword, with his last breath 
invoking vengeance upon the invaders. 



CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
U . S . A 



V 





